On Such A Day
by Sunflowers In Moscow
Summary: On such a day, Guinevere really should not be wondering; it's far past the point of no return. But she wonders about the life she could have had, with the man she could have had, and if she would have chosen differently.


On such a day, Guinevere really should not be wondering. But she is.

* * *

><p>She wonders about the life they could have had. It would have been as easy as breathing with him; no maids and niceties and false smiles. They would have had a simple house, a farm, perhaps with a couple of horses and a cow. There would have been no one around, and the air would have been empty of any sounds bar the faraway calls of birds and the hissing of the wind through the tall grass. She would have found calm picking flowers and cooking, with no rush and schedule; the only haste being the rumble of one's stomach. It would only have taken around an hour to get to the nearest town, but she wouldn't have been lonely.<p>

No, she would have had her children. Adorable little girls with his pale skin and the dark features they both shared. Kind little boys who had her tanned colouring and perhaps the soft stare inherited from their father. They would have ran through the grounds while their father was gone, wreaking a sort of sweet havoc only a mother can both treasure and control. They would have ridden the horses with a skill learned from fun teachings, and they would have done the chores right along side her; milking the cow, sweeping the rooms, cooking the meals.

Then, he would have come home, back from his work as a knight of Camelot. The farm wouldn't have been very far from the town, so travelling backwards and forwards would have been simple if riding. But, she wouldn't have had to be concerned of his safety, because there would have been no wars, only peace. The knights would only have need as a symbol of previous tumultuous times.

She would have been cooking the evening meal, lulled by the laughing of her children out in the fields, while two warm arms would have wrapped around her, a warm body pressed against her back, and a loving whisper would have soothed her mind and sent her heart straight to the heavens. She would then have turned around, and indulged on the sight of his curly dark hair and his unruly brown eyes, and she would have been home.

* * *

><p>She was pulled out of her wondering by the small tug on her sleeve, courtesy of a worried and frazzled maid, and she focussed on the large polished wooden door in front of her.<p>

The white material she was adorned in shone with the vibrancy of the midday sun, and she felt as if it was the strength of her emotions that was causing it. Because for all her wondering, she was right here, right now.

* * *

><p>It was not be as easy as breathing for them; there <em>would<em> be maids, niceties and unfortunately, many false smiles. It would not be a simple house, nor would there be a cow. No, she would be in a castle, the grandest in existence, and if she wished to see a cow, it would have to be during one of the many state visits she would be expected to make. The air would not be silent, either. It would be clogged with the whispers of maids and courtiers alike, the calls of the people below, and the bustle of a prosperous town.

She would be very lucky indeed if she found the time to pick flowers, and if she was ever caught cooking, she would be shamed for weeks. There would be no such thing as an empty day, as everything would be planned out for her by people she barely knew, all under orders of the expectations of the people.

She would be surrounded by servants and diplomatic envoys and the many, many nobles of court. Despite living and working in the very same place, she would be lucky to see him regularly during daylight, and sometimes, even at night. Because Camelot was not at peace, no matter how much anyone wished it was, and the knights were figures that were needed; never mind their king.

And her darling little children - they would not know the benefit and sometimes frustration of chores; because their days would be filled with lessons in physical combat and mental knowledge from the moment they could walk and talk.

But...

She would be able to make a difference in the ruling of the land, and she could actually help solve the woes of the people, as apposed to simple complaining about it.

It would give her the authority to give herself some time to pick flowers if she wished, and if she got caught in the kitchens despite disguising herself, who really cared? They all knew who she was, the nobles through her husband, and the peasants through herself, because she had been one of them. Everyone would already know _Gwen_, not Guinevere.

Also, her husband would not be a complete incompetent (she says this lightly, ignoring Merlin who is presently giving her an incredulous look) and if he felt they needed time alone, it would happen.

And her sweet little children, with dark hair, tanned skin and blue eyes – or blond hair, and brown eyes, would be loved beyond comprehension, not just by their mother and father, but by the entire kingdom. They would be cared for, idolised and respected. She would gift them with the humility hard work usually brought with it by herself, she would utilise the experience and knowledge she had gained in her childhood and build up her children to be strong and worthy of their position.

* * *

><p>As the doors opened, and she caught a glimpse of the judging yet welcoming eyes her future subjects gave her, her stomach gave a nervous flutter she quickly managed to squash. Her eyes searched, and soon found their quarry. His sea blue eyes were wide in awe, and his blond hair carefully combed. He was wearing the traditional outfit, as she was, and she couldn't help but notice how well it suited him.<p>

A deep breath later, and she was walking to the march, and nothing else mattered but the colour and depth of his eyes, and the warmth in her heart that grew with each passing moment.

This life would be harder, much harder, and they would no doubt face many trials that would test the strength of the kingdom and of their love. She would experience pain, loss, rage, tears before this fight ended, and each would try her more than the last.

Her dreams of Lancelot and the life they could have had together were heart-breaking, and often left her feeling lost.

But she knew, as she began to walk towards her destiny and the end of life as she knew it, that if she had had the choice...

_Arthur..._

There was no place she would rather be, than in this moment, about to become his queen.


End file.
